My Last Hope
by RandomClarinetPlayer
Summary: An abused girl has the talent to join the BAU, but she's hiding a big secret. A secret that could get her killed. Contains original characters. Rated T for language, self harm, and relationship abuse. Slowly becoming a Reid x OC story.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, everyone! So, you should know that I posted this Fanfic two years ago (Holy crap) so the story takes place before Prentiss leaves, somewhere around the middle of season seven or so. The only characters I own are Andy and Ronnie. Hope you enjoy, and remember to review!**

1

"Please, Andy! I didn't mean it, I swear!"

I know pleading with him won't help, but it doesn't stop me from trying. His hand comes down hard, bruising the arm I had used to block my head. "I sure hope you didn't! You know, I love you, but the way you act sometimes makes it difficult to." I grind my teeth together, refusing to let tears spill over. He turns his back on me. I think he's calming down. "You should your sweatshirt on. You have to go to your new job today, don't you?" He mutters, more to himself than directed at me. He runs his fingers through his dark layered hair, then brushes his long bangs out of his face. It's ninety degrees outside, but I don't argue. I don't want people asking questions about the bruises Andy gives me, or the scars from cuts I have given myself years before.

I pull my simple black sweatshirt on and fix my deep purple, similarly styled, but longer hair. I wear dark skinny jeans and black converse. Hardly professional, but I didn't really have anything better. I sigh and walk out the door, leaving my boyfriend behind for the day. I would have to walk to the FBI headquarters. _This is going to be difficult, working with law enforcement, and hiding from them at the same time._ I absently think to myself. I tug down on my sleeves, making sure my arms don't show. It takes around twenty minutes for me to walk to my new job site, though I could probably cut that time in half if I ran.

I pull open the glass door and walk inside. The first room almost looks like a doctor's receiving room, complete with a practical looking woman working behind a desk. I walk up to her slowly, not sure of how I should go about introduce myself. "Um, hello." I say uncertainly. She looks up and gives me a polite smile. "May I help you?" I lick my lips, feeling the small holes where my lip piercing used to go. It didn't feel very appropriate for a twenty four year old girl to wear. Then again, I had purple hair, so who was I to say lip piercing were impractical?

"I'm here for a job interview with…" My sentence trails off, and I blink. Oh, God, what was his name? "Aaron…uh…Hotchner! Yes, Aaron Hotchner. I think." Skepticism flits across the lady's face, but she types something in her computer, then returns her gaze to me. "He'll be down shortly. You can take a seat anywhere and wait for him." I give her a curt nod and take a seat in a chair at the very corner of the room. I watch the floor intently, my fingers interlocking and pulling apart nervously. I try to ignore the fact that I am the only one there, aside from the computer lady. Was it possible I was the only one who had been called about the job opening in the infamous BAU Unit?

A minute or so later, a tall man with a grim face enters from a doorway on my left. His gaze travels across the empty room before settling on me. He begins to cross the room until he is by my side. "Are you Ronnie Kensington?" He asks. I nod.

"The Ronnie Kensington transferring from London?" I nod again, my heart sinking when I hear the doubt in his voice. "Not to come off as rude, but I didn't expect you to look like…well…this." He says. "I can assure you, Mister Hotchner, my looks are deceiving. I work hard." He purses his lips in contemplation, then replies slowly, "I am sorry, Miss Kensington, but we don't just hire people off the street, perhaps you can find work in a lower division of the FBI. Thank you for your time."

And with that, he turns to return t the doorway. Panic bubbles up inside and I blurt out without thinking, "Your alarm clock is on the right side of your bed, you woke up late this morning, you're ambidextrous, and you have a young son!"

He stops and turns back to look at me. My hands quickly rise to cover my mouth. "Oh my God, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I'll just be going-" He raises his hand to quiet me. "Explain. Explain how you could possibly know that." My hands drop down to my lap and fiddle with my sleeves. A rush of words spill out of my mouth before I can think.

"The right side of your hair is slightly messier that your left, indicating that you were laying on your right side when you woke up. You didn't brush your hair, your tie is a little bit too loose, your left shoe is double knotted, but your right has only one knot. You seem professional, so you wouldn't show up to work like this if you could help it, showing you were in a rush today. And about your son, your shirt has a smudge of brown marker on the right sleeve, and green on the left, indicating you drew with both hands, though you favor your left hand."

I finish my rambling and look hopefully at him, praying silently that he won't walk away. He nods slowly, and I can practically see gears turning in his head. "You are right, about everything. I will show you to the unit. Please, follow me." And with that, he begins walking away. A grin breaks onto my face, and I give a little fist pump that causes the computer lady to giggle as I follow Hotchner through the doorway which he came from.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dun dun dun! Chapter 2! Thanks to MrsCriminalMinds, the first and maybe only person to review my story! Continue reading, if you want. If you don't want to I really don't know what you're doing here. Enjoy!  
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2

I tug on my sleeves as I follow Mr. Hotchner down the hall. We turn to the left and enter a larger room. I look around and watch the people walk around busily, oblivious to my existence. It looks as if they all have a purpose, carrying files, talking with others. We don't enter the room, but Mr. Hotchner tells me everyone's names and points to them. No one acknowledges us.

After a minute, he gestures to a door on the far side of the room and up some stairs. "Please go in there and take a seat. You will formally meet the team in a few moments." I nod and walk over to the room, feeling as if I am going to run into someone. It has a long, dark table and chairs lining the edges. A large T.V screen sits in the front of the room. I sit on the right side on the chair farthest from the door.

After around thirty seconds, the door opens. I look down at the table, my hair falling in my face. I hear a few murmurs of, "Who is she?" and, "Is she in the wrong place?" I exhale silently, releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding. I don't really belong anywhere, do I? Everyone settles in, and a guy around my age sits in the chair next to me. He has long wavy brown hair and deep brown eyes. He seems nice.

"Everyone," Hotch says, bringing everyone's attention to him. "This is Ronnie Kensington. She is a new addition, and I want her to feel welcome to the team." I look up and around the room. I know everyone's name, and now they know mine. The guy next to me, Spencer Reid, holds out his hand for me to shake. I shake his hand gently.

Mr. Hotchner tells us that we are driving to a crime scene about an hour away. I end up in a black car with Mr. Reid, Mr. Morgan, and Mr. Hotchner. I sit in the back with Reid. I absently tap out the beat of Andy's new song on my leg. I realize that I'm probably annoying everyone with my tapping, so I stop. No one talks for the duration of the ride. When we get there, there is a quaint house as a crime scene. We enter the house and look around while the local police talk to Aaron.

After a while, Aaron enters the house and says, "We are looking for the murder weapon, it's highly possible it's still in this room." I slowly raise my hand and point at the vent on the wall in the corner. Morgan and Hotch look at me suspiciously. Rossi is handed a screwdriver, and takes off the grate, reaching in with a gloved hand. He pulls out a small gun.

"How could you possible tell that was in there?" The girl with black hair, Emily, says, her eyes scanning my face for hints. "The screws are wrong." I say quietly. I don't like being the center of attention. "What do you mean by 'wrong'?" Morgan asks me. "What do you notice about the grate?" I say.

He looks at the grate for a few seconds. "Um, it's dirty, and rusty."

"Exactly, Mr. Morgan. But the screws are brand new. It was suspicious."

He frowns. "It's amazing that you would notice that." He says. I look down at the floor. "Thank you." I mutter. The case was easy, the murder didn't expect us to find the gun, and he left prints, so it was simple to track and arrest him.

After that, I begin walking back home. This day was successful.

**Chapter 2, done! Another review and you will be rewarded with another chapter! Thanks for reading!  
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	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! I'm back with part 3! How great is that? Praise me, PRAISE ME! It's ok. You don't actually have to praise me. But anyways, enjoy! WAIT! Before you enjoy, I should warn you, self harm is in this chapter. I don't mean to offend anyone, so...yeah. Now you can enjoy.**

3

After the first few weeks, I adjust well to the BAU. I don't say "Mr. Hotch" or "Miss Emily" anymore. Just Hotch and Emily. I don't get lost, and for the first time in a long time, I feel needed. Andy doesn't seem to care. His beatings hurt just as much, but I know he does it because he loves me. Love hurts.

Right now, I am leaning against the wall, my eyes closed, hoping for him to stop. I pull myself to my feet, finding that I am a little unsteady. He leans down, giving me a little kiss on my lips. "I love you so much. But if you do something bad, you must be punished," He murmurs. He turns toward the door. "I need a new guitar pick. I'll be back in an hour."

The door closes quietly.

I feel numb. And a little confused by Andy's bipolar behavior. I walk slowly to my room, shutting the door. Like anyone would open the door. I sit on my chair by my desk. I take a deep breath and open the drawer. It is empty, except for one thing.

My pocket knife.

I take it out and place it above my left arm. I feel the cool, sharp metal touch my skin. I notice my hands are shaking.

No, this is wrong.

I frown. I had never had second thoughts about this before. But, then again, I hadn't self-harmed for years either.

I press down and slowly pull to the right. I let out a small gasp. It hurts. It hurts a lot. But it feels good at the same time. Like pulling out a loose tooth. A thin stream of red liquid trails down my arm, toward my hand. I do it again. I don't cry. I do it several times, adding to the scars on my arm.

The phone on my desk rings suddenly. I jump in surprise. I set my knife down, and pick up the phone. "Hello?" I ask quietly. My voice shakes a little bit. "Um, are you okay?" it's Reid. I clear my throat. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine, the phone just surprised me. Is something wrong?" I ask, turning the conversation back to him. "Oh, Hotch wants you here, he wants you to see how to do interrogation." I nod, then remember I'm talking on the phone. "Oh, sure. I'll be there soon, okay?" "Okay."

We both hang up. I hurry to the bathroom and wash off all the blood. Most of the cuts have stopped bleeding, so I skip band-aids. I pull on my usual black jacket and rush out the door. I run around half a mile, then slow to a walk, breathing a little hard.

I finally make it to the BAU building, hurrying inside. Reid meets me halfway down the hall. "Hey, are you okay?" He asks, looking me in the eye. "You asked me that already." I say back to him. "You look a little pale. And unsteady. Are you sure your-" "I'm fine!" I say, a bit forcefully. He drops the subject. After a minute, we stop in front of two doors; Hotch is standing by the nearest one. He gestures me inside, closing the door behind us. It's just like on TV shows. Gray walls, a metal table, a chair, and a mirror. Probably a two-way mirror.

I take a seat and Hotch ambles slowly around the room. "The first thing about interrogations is to make a connection with the suspect. Talk about something they will understand. For example, if I were talking to a baseball fan, we could discuss the game last night. Establish trust."

I nod, hanging on his words. "What this technique does is establish a baseline. Their body language when telling the truth, so it will be easier to tell when their lying." He stops walking around the room and stands in front of me. "There are two types of killers. Non-emotional and emotional. Emotional offenders are easier to interrogate, because they break down easily, and are usually first time offenders."

He teaches me for about an hour, and I listen with curiosity. After that, I take my weapons training course and pass with flying colors. I get to carry a gun, but I don't trust myself with one. Hotch gives me a manila folder and tells me I will interrogate this person tomorrow.

**Woohoo! done! Thank you so much for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, everyone. So, I just wanted to remind y'all that more reviews=more chapters. If I don't get reviews, I won't post chapters. I also want to remind you that I stated in the previous chapter "I think someone/everyone should find out about what's going on with Ronnie. But what I can't figure out is who should figure it out, and how they should find out." ****I still need help with that. Please please please. So, also in the previous chapter, I also said that Ronnie "Passed exam with flying colors." I shall give you some insight into her past…this is what happened during her qualifications exam! Enjoy!**

"So, remember, it's..."

I'm not really paying attention to what Hotch is saying. We are standing in the firing range, and he is telling me some technique to use while shooting. He really shouldn't be wasting his breath. I decide to interupt. "Um, Hotch? I really don't need to know all of thi-" He raises his hand to quiet me. "No, I insist. All of this is necessary to-" I raise my arm, gun in hand, and shoot at the dummy three times, my eyes never leaving Hotch's. When I turn and look at the dummy, there are three holes. One in the forehead, one in the heart, and one the liver.

Hotch stands, staring at the dummy.

"How did you do that?" I lower the gun, and shrug. "My dad liked sports. He made my do a lot of that stuff. Karate, hunting, fencing. I've always been pretty good at it." Hotch nods slowly. "I think you passed your exam."

**Whoo! That was pointless! Anyway...review and I'll post more! and I still need to know about the BAU finding out about Ronnie. Who, where, and how. Tell me in a review or PM! Thank you :) Bye-bye!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm back! Ok, so, this story was reviewed a couple days ago, and I didn't upload until today! I'm really sorry! I've been busy! Oh, y'all might find this interesting! In social studies, we have been roll-playing Trials! like with the judge and attorneys and all that jazz! It's really fun. Anyway, back to the story! **

The next day, I walk into the BAU nervous. I will talk to a criminal today. Hotch told me I have to be aggressive, I'm the boss. Reid is going to be with me, in case I need help or anything. Reid seems nice, if not a little shy. But, then again, who am I to judge? I get jitters just talking to one person.

I reach into my pocket and pull out my key card and open the door to the headquarters. As I walk to the BAU unit, people actually acknowledge me. A few people even say, "Good morning," and, "Hello." I smile and return the gestures of goodwill.

When I enter the unit, Reid falls in step with me, walking on my right side. "Good morning, Reid." I greet softly. "Good morning." He replies. "I remember when I had to do my first interrogation. I was so nervous. I-" He continues talking as we walk to the interrogation room. I sigh. "Hotch will be watching from behind the one-way mirror." He says, opening the door to the interrogation room.

There is a desk with a folder on it. Sitting behind the desk is a man around thirty years old. He is handcuffed. He has light brown hair and dark green eyes. "So…your William Brown?" I ask nervously. He rolls his eyes. "No, I'm Willy Wonka." I take a deep breath and open the folder. "William, where were you on the night of September 21st?" He narrows his eyes. "You two don't look like feds."

_Stay on topic. _"You don't look like a murder, but I'm not one to stereotype. Now, where were you on the night of September 21st?" He leans back in his chair. "Have you ever seen a dead body?" He asks, crossing his legs.

This goes on for around an hour before I get him to admit to the murder. Reid and I step out of the room. A second later, Hotch steps out of the door next to ours.

"You tricked me. I thought this was supposed to be easy." I say to Hotch, looking him in the eye. His expression doesn't change. "I was simply testing your abilities. You surpassed my expectations." I give him a small nod and hand him the folder he had given me yesterday. He takes it and says in his usual flat voice, "We are heading off to Phoenix, Arizona tomorrow. We will be gone for a couple days, so pack tonight. Wheels up at eight."

He turns and walks away, Reid following close behind. I stand, in a slight daze. Leaving? To Arizona? that's so far away. Andy won't be happy. I turn and begin to walk out of the building.

I walk home and enter the door. Andy is not here. He will probably be angry with the fact I left for work while he was gone. I take a candy bar from the kitchen counter and head to the basement. The basement is where Andy's band practices and records. And it's also where I write their music. I sit in front of the desk in the corner and open my book. I write for around an hour when I hear a door slam upstairs. Andy is back.

"I'm back!" He says in a sing-song voice. "Ronnie, get up here!" I set my pencil down and hurry up the stairs. He is sitting on the couch. He looks rather happy. "Hi, Andy." I say, glancing at him suspiciously. "Where were you?" He asks, cocking his head slightly to the right, his bangs falling into his face. "I got called off to work." I reply.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were asleep. I didn't want to wake you."

He stands up and walks over to me. He is around two inches taller than me. He runs his fingers along the side of my face. "You have such a beautiful face," He murmurs. "I would hate to see it broken." His words send shivers down my spine. He turns away and before I can react, he whirls back around and slaps me across the left side of my face. I leap back in shock and tumble backwards down the stairs.

I hit the bottom floor and gasp for breath. I sit back up, leaning against the wall. "Remember, the more I kick you when your down the more it truly helps." He taunts, quoting a song I had written for him. Andy stands at the top of the stairs, looking down on me. That's always how it seems. Someone is always looking down on me. Sometimes I'm forced to wonder, do I really deserve this? Am I really that bad?

Is this the way it was meant to be?

**Done! So, Ronnie is leaving for Arizona! How do you feel about that? Sad, Happy? Like an archer from outer space just made you salsa? Tell me! Thanks, and remember, If you eat crackers and then play the trumpet, bad things happen. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, guys! HOLY SHITAKI MUSHROOMS. This chapter thingy is WAY overdue! But I started volleyball practice, preformed at a concert, all that stuff! So, here is your reward for patiently waiting! Oh, by the way, shout out to lillycore (I'm pretty sure that's the username) for reviewing my story...TWICE! Seriously, you rock. Thank you! Now, on with the show!**

The next day, I wake up to my alarm clock going off on my bedside table. I blink a couple of times and shut the alarm off. I sit up and sigh. My face feels sore. I feel thankful that my bangs cover half of my face. I swing my feet over the side of my bed and stand, stretching. I walk out of my room to the bathroom across the hall.

I glance in the mirror and a small gasp escapes my lips. The left half of my face is assorted shades of black and purple. "Damn it, Andy!" I growl under my breath. I open the cabinet under the sink and pull out some makeup. It doesn't help. I wash it off. I comb my hair and brush my teeth. I go back to my room and put on black skinny jeans, a black and red shirt, and red converse.

I take an old backpack and put some clothes inside. I pack for while, then head downstairs for breakfast. I set my bag in the hallway and walk into the kitchen. I am slightly surprised to find Andy sitting on a chair pulled up to the island. "Your up early." I say, opening the cupboard and taking a slice of bread out. "I couldn't sleep." He says as I put the bread in the toaster. "I'm leaving for a couple of days, Andy." he looks at me. "May I ask why?" he says, standing. "It's for work. I'm going to Phoenix." he nods and walks over to me. He gently moves my bangs away and examines my face. "I'm sorry." he says softly.

"I'll be fine." I say back. He gives me a small smile and presses his lips to mine. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer. His hair tickles my face. Suddenly, the toast pops out of the toaster with a loud "Ding!" I squeak and jump back, nearly hitting my head on the overhead cupboard. Andy laughs. "I don't understand how you can watch all those scary movies and you freak out about toast." He ruffles my hair. "I'm going to try and sleep. Call me if anything bad happens in Phoenix." He walks out of the kitchen. "It startled me." I mutter, taking it out of the toaster. I eat quickly and walk out of the kitchen. I pick up my bag and stick my phone in my pocket.

Before leaving, I go downstairs and grab a mechanical pencil and my song book. I stick them both in my bag.

When I make it to the BAU unit, Reid leads me to a private jet. Will you believe it? A private jet! Hotch, Reid, and Emily board and Hotch debriefs us on the case we will be working for about an hour. I will be asked to Lead the team and Catch the unsub. I think it's like a test to see how well I can do in the field. After that, we have around four hours of flight time left. I take out my notebook and open it to the new song I'm working on. I write the lyrics, erasing a lot.

After a while, I feel two people sit across from me. I can tell it is Reid and Emily. I glance up and see them both looking at me. I quickly look down again. Awkward…

"We haven't formally met you yet." Emily says. She sounds a little nervous. I look up. "I'm Ronnie." I hold their gaze for a second and return to my work. "You know, we were going to ask Garcia to do a background check on you, but we decided it would be more polite to talk to you in person."

Emily does most of the talking. "Uh…so, what exactly do you want to know?" I ask. "Just…stuff. Like, what were you like as a kid?" Reid asks. They seem to be genuinely interested. "I really never had a childhood." Emily raises her eyebrows. "What do you mean by that?" I set my pencil down and begin talking.

"Well, my parents were really strict. My father thought girls should learn to take care of themselves. He had me learn marksmanship, archery, karate, fencing, things like that. But my mom was all about being lady-like. She taught me etiquette, music, foreign language, dancing, all of those. I got good grades, and I wasn't allowed to have friends."

The two agents look at me with interest. "You've changed." Reid says quietly. I shrug. "On my eighteenth birthday, my parents kicked me out. I turned to the dark side, as some star wars nerds would say. I stole, cheated, lied, all that jazz. But I never got caught. Old habits die hard, and I turned myself into the police. I cleaned myself up, and now I'm here." I finish my story and look back to my song. "Tragic Magic?" Emily asks. "It's a work in progress. But who knows? One day, I might get the song on the radio. I could be famous."

**Wow! That was a horrible ending! Oh, well. I'm to lazy to fix it. So...still debating someone in the BAU finding out about Ronnie...HELP! Please! Anyway...thanks for reading! Remember, more reviews equal more chapters! I won't continue without at least one review...preferably a review regarding the debate I'm having with myself that I discussed a second ago! Bye-bye!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Oh my gravy! I got two reviews on the last chapter! So, just for that, I give you a long chapter! Your welcome! And if your wondering, I didn't make up this investigation. It's from an episode of Psych. And Ronnie acts a little different when she lies. Just warning you! And I edited the last chapter so the people with Ronnie are Reid, Hotch, and Emily. Anyway, read!**

We touch down a few hours after my chat with Emily and Reid. It felt nice talking to someone other than Andy. Hotch, Reid, Emily and I go to the house and talk with the mother of the missing child. Well, I suppose he's not a child, because he is already eighteen.

We sit on the couch and the lady, Mrs. Greyfogal, places four glasses of lemonade on the coffee table in front of us. She sits on a separate chair. "My son, Malone, has been acting very strange lately, before he disappeared." "Strange how?" Hotch asks. "Well, he had worked so hard to earn a paid summer internship with a big computer company, then, he turned it down at the last second." She says, using her hands to put an emphasis on her words. "He wouldn't tell me why. He rarely leaves his room, and his two oldest friends, Rob and Don, tell me they hardly get to see him."

I decide to talk. "Have you spoken with Rob or Don since Malone disappeared?" She shakes her head. "No, but I spoke to their parents; both boys are at computer camp."

"We would like to see his room." Hotch says.

When we enter the room, it is messy. A lot of comic books, and directions in the trash can to a convention center. There is a single light in the room, above his bed. There is a little bit of something I suspect is drugs under the bed. I frown. The ring that holds the bulb to the ceiling is loose. I turn the lights off and on repeatedly. Everyone looks at me suspiciously. I step onto the bed and take the ring off. After that, I pull the bulb out.

And almost five thousand dollars in cash floats down from the ceiling.

When we get back outside, Hotch asks, "So, does anyone have any ideas where he is going?" "Well, isn't that kind of obvious?" I ask, slightly confused. "Do you know where he's going?" Emily asks. "Well, you saw his room. All those comic books. Your eighteen, you're a sci-fi fan, and you've got cash burning a hole in your pocket. Where else do you go than a comic book convention?" Hotch and Reid nod. Hotch calls up Garcia and we find TriCon is in Phoenix this week.

We head off to the convention center. When we enter, there is a sign that says, "Tickets needed." Underneath, it says, "Sold out." I note that George Takei is going to be here. One of the people who work here take the sign down as I walk by. "Leave this out of sight until we get the issue with the food in his room resolved! I don't know if he's going to walk over the blueberry issue, but we can't have people lining up until we are sure he will participate."

"We won't be able to get in without tickets." Reid says. I nod. "I'm a pretty good liar." The team turns to look at me. "Your going to lie your way in?" Hotch asks. I shrug. "You want me to prove myself. My methods are different than yours, but I assure you, they will be effective." Hotch nods. "Ok. You're the leader this time."

I nod and begin to approach my way past the table where they take tickets. "You can't come in here." The man says to us. I sigh loudly. "They didn't tell you we were coming?" He purses his lips. "Who?"

"We work for George." He stares at us. "Takii?" He rolls his eyes. "You mean Takei?" he pronounces it with an A sound.

"Yeah. Those closest to him know how he wants his name to be pronounced, ok? Now, do you think you can have a convention without commander Sulu?" He says nothing. "Have his fresh blueberries arrived yet?" He grabs a clipboard and flips up the first paper. "Uh, I don't have record of receiving-" I interrupt, "You don't have record of having received it yet? Give me that!" I grab his clipboard and look at the paper.

I snicker and show the paper to Emily. "They don't have record of receiving them." I laugh and the team fake laughs. The security guard laughs too. I suddenly slam the clipboard down with a loud bang. Everyone jumps.

"What's the big deal?" The guard asks. "What's the big deal? What is the big deal! Do you have ANY idea about what happened when they forgot his blueberries at the con in san Antonio? That comb-over will be the least of your-" I break off and blink profusely. I say calmly, "You know what? It's better if you don't know. It's how I ended up with a stutter and a wooden pinkie toe. Now, for the love of Scotty, would you p-p-p-please!" I break off letting a couple fake sobs loose. "Let us get in there and save all of our asses!"

He purses his lips and lets us through.

We walk through the convention booths. It horrifically nerdy. "Hey, guys!" Someone calls as we walk by a booth. We all stop and give the people behind the booth out attention. "I'm Talia, and this is Dan. We are from Parastone Pictures and we just wanted to remind you to go see the world premiere of the new Red Phantom movie tomorrow night." Dan says, "It's going to be the biggest movie of the year, don't miss out." I look and the booklet Talia handed me. "No way, I love the Dead Phantom." I say sarcastically. "Um, Red Phantom." Dan corrects me. I look him in the eye. "What? He didn't die at the end?" Talia and Dan exchange glances.

I begin walking away. "Bye," I call over my shoulder. "I heard this movie won't do to well. It's a shame. I liked the comic." I hear the people walking behind us say. "I know. Fortress of Attitude reviewed it. Malcontent hated it." I assume Fortress of attitude is a website, and Malcontent is a reviewer.

We walk by another booth. A sign behind the mans head reads, Hilts Cooler. Some comics are lined up neatly in front of him. The title reads Green Spirit. Andy and a couple other people saw the movie. From what I heard it wasn't to good. "You know, I wished they based the movie on this comic. I told them a million times, but they wouldn't listen to me." He says to another person. I grab a copy and stick it in my bag as I walk by.

I look around. "There is to much ground to cover. We need to split up." Hotch says. "I believe I can help this situation." I say softly, looking towards the stage where an announcer is talking. "Are you sure about this?" Hotch asks uncertainly. I nod and begin walking toward the stage. _Improvisation. How would I know this information? If I was a genius, or if I was…a psychic! Sci-fi nerds will hopefully believe anything I say._ The announcer says, "So, next on our list is…um," he looks at me when I stand next to him. "Um, ma'am, can I help you?"

_Think!_

_Think!_

"Uh, yes. I'm Ronnie Kensington, psychic detective." I look over and see Hotch rub his forehead in an exasperated manner. "Um, I just need a moment." The announcer exclaims, "A psychic? Welcome! Ladies and gentlemen, science fiction fans, we have a real psychic with us today!" A majority of the people turn to look at the stage. One man raises his hand. "You're a psychic? Like Professor X?" Another person says, "Professor X is a telepath, not a psychic!" I clear my throat. "But I do have telepathic abilities, along with my psychic tendencies." The first man asks, "Can you read me?"

_uh oh…_

"Sure…" I say. I place my right hand on my temple, forcing a look of concentration onto my face. _Just profile him!_ I think to myself. "I'm getting a reading! I'm getting a reading right now. Um, you, uh, spend a great deal of time, in front of your computer." He nods, his eyes wide. "And, uh, I see a girl, yes. You like her, from afar. She doesn't really know you exist." He smiles. "Yes! Yes! Her name is Megan! Uh, do I have a chance?" U_m…what do I say?_ "Don't put to much work into it, uh, I think she might want to be," I move my fingers to form air quotes, "Just friends." He nods. I need to get back to the case, no matter how much fun this is.

"Woah! I'm getting, I'm getting an "R"! I'm getting an "R"! Does anyone have a name that begins with "R"?" More people look up at me.

"Woah, wait! And a "D"? Yes! A "D"! An "R" and a "D"! an "R" name, uh, Rim? Uh, um, Ralph, oh! Robert? No! No Bert, just Rob! And I need a "D" name. Dan, Doodle, Dukie, Dave, Don! Yes! Rob and Don!"

_Brilliant, Ronnie. I congratulate myself. Using a psychic vision to get the attention of the people I am looking for._ "That's us!" I hear two people cheer. They are around eighteen and tall. I wave them onto the stage while the crowd cheers.

When they get on stage I greet them. "Hey guys! So, first, I will need you both to empty your pockets." They both reach into their pockets and pull out some spare change and exactly what I was looking for, a hotel room key. "Ah ha! A room key. Even though you both reside locally." Rob says, "Oh, our friend sprang for a hotel suite for us." I smile. "Ah, room one twenty nine." I say wistfully. Don looks at me funny. "Um, room four twenty eight." Yes, of course." I say absently.

Now I know where they are staying. I suspect that friend is Malone Greyfogal. _Time for another psychic vision._ "I'm getting something! This friend you speak of, I sense you haven't seen him in a while. Hmm. Don't tell me, your not supposed to be here, you told your parents you were going to computer camp!" Rob and Don exchange nervous glances. "I know what your hiding!" They turn and sprint off stage. I walk off stage, back towards the rest of the team.

Step one went smoothly.

**And done! Wow! Wasn't that great? Don't give me too much credit, this is nearly word for word off of Psych, episode...I'm not sure. If you really want to know, ask in a review and I'll do a little research. Thanks for reading! Remember, review for another chapter! Bye bye!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm Back! Did ya miss me? So, I have a story for you. So, me and my friend are just walking around the mall, being the normal teenagers we are, when some guy comes up to us and was like, "I wish my hair was emo, so it would cut itself!" SWEET JESUS! It's hard to be insulted when you say that. We didn't know if it was an insult or a joke. Haha, well, here's part eight! This is still from an episode of psych! Read on! **

"I'm not sure if I approve of this method, but you are getting pretty far in the investigation." Hotch says as we begin walking out of the convention hall. I don't know whether to thank him or feel insulted, so I say nothing. I open the door out, take three steps, and find myself face-to-face…with George Takei.

Uh-oh.

"That's them there!" The guard who I lied to says, pointing at me. "Why are you telling people that you're my assistants?" George asks. Crap!

"Um…because we are your assistants? Don't your remember a Ronnie Kensington?"

He narrows his eyes. "Excuse me?"

_Ok, ok. Get back in control. You can do this._

"Wow, are you serious George?" I give a little laugh. "I know you said to work outside of the loop, but this is a little ridiculous." He looks at me funny. "I don't remember you."

"George, you hired us personally. We met you in Chicago, at the screening of that movie…with the whales." Reid smiles and says, "Star Trek four, The Voyage Home."

I refrain from laughing. He is such a nerd.

"The last time I was in Chicago I was doing a reading from my autobiography."

Oh, shit.

"Um, yeah…we booked that."

He gives me another funny look. I laugh and turn slightly to face Reid. "Remember Robin told us he'd NEVER be able to fill a room that size?" Reid has no idea what to do, so he just laughs awkwardly.

"I don't know any 'Robin'…"

"That's because I fired her. Look, George, you don't need that kind of negativity, ok? Its her fault with what happened in San Antonio. But, you didn't hear that from me."

George shakes his head. "I'm so confused." _Don't worry George. I am too._

"Look George, we can stand around and talk all day," Reid puts in, "Like Robin used to," "Or I can try and do something about solving your blueberry crisis. The choice is yours."

He takes a deep breath.

"Well, alright then. Get to it."

_Victory!_

"Thank you!" I exclaim as we walk past George to exit the building. The next stop will be room four twenty eight. We drive to the hotel, Hotch driving, Emily in the passengers seat, and Reid and I in the back. I read through the book, "The Green Spirit" while we drive. I had never read a comic book before.

We ride to the fourth floor and walk down the hall to room four twenty eight. I enter the keycard and open the door.

Wow. The room is trashed. Half eaten food, pop cans, and even a broken vase litters the floor. "Now I see why Rob and Don were freaked. They didn't want anyone to see this mess." Emily says, closing the door behind us. "this place is terrible…" Hotch agrees. Emily gives a tiny smile.

"Maybe Johnny Depp stopped by."

"I'm sorry, did that joke just arrive in a time machine from 1992?" I ask.

Emily frowns. "He used to trash hotel rooms!"

"Yeah, used to! The dude has kids now. He lives in France."

Emily smiles. She knows I'm just teasing her. "Do you have a better version of that joke?" I return her smile.

"Sure. How 'bout that lame-o who's dating Kate Moss?"

"He's British, and no one knows who he is."

"Ok, fine, to inside."

Hotch rubs his forehead. I begin looking around, using my acute powers of observation to scan the room. I see a paper sticking out from under a pile of dirty plates. It reads "Malcontent." "Guys, come here." I say, beckoning them over. Reid glances at the paper.

"If you cross off the 'C', the 'T', and the 'N, T', it spells Malone." Emily says, "So, Malone is Malcontent?" I nod. I continue to look around. I point to the ground. There is a piece of paper that reads, "One down, two to go." The O's are written uniquely. "Hmm. Well, there goes the kid on a spending spree theory." I mutter.

We exit the room and Hotch calls Garcia on the elevator ride down. "Hey, Garcia, I need some information on the fortress of attitude and malcontent." "Will do, mister boss man!" comes a perky reply. A few seconds later she says, "Well, he is a blogger, and he seems to hate the Red Phantom movie. He's relentless." she pauses. "Huh. That's weird. If you go back a couple weeks, he was originally saying great things about the movie." The elevator door opens and we step into the lobby. "Thanks Garcia." Hotch says, closing his phone.

"So, Parastone Pictures paid him to praise the Red Phantom?" Hotch states, though its more of a question. I nod. "That's probably where all the money in his room came from. It makes sense. Malone's blog started a bad buzz on Parastone's comic book movie."

Emily cuts in. "So, parastone had everything riding on this new film. But Malone blazed the Red Phantom anyway. Which is probably why he's missing."

We all get into the car and head back to the convention center. We ride silently. "I am going to talk to that Talia, and try to judge if she is innocent," I say when we get out of the car. A couple of feet from the door, I see George Takei.

Super.

"Ronnie, my blueberries are still wrong! I requested North Carolina blueberries, and I got Michigan blueberries! People say I'm crazy, but I can taste the difference."

Well. That's a little weird.

"I don't think that's crazy at all-"

"And, I requested that my green room NOT be at the end of the hall! It's affecting my chi!"

Well, that was even weirder.

"Emily!" I exclaim.

She gives me a confused look. "What?"

"Did you skimp out and get the Michigan blueberries?"

"What?"

"And screw up the room location? And what are you doing to George's chi? Are you touching it and whatnot? Stop it!"

I see her hide a smile.

I turn back to George. "I'm sorry Mister Takei. It's all my fault. My fault for giving out responsibilities that I should have seen to myself. My humblest apologies. We will get you the right blueberries as soon as possible, and a better room assignment. You have my word."

He sighs. "Well, alright then. Good help is hard to find, I suppose." he then walks back into the convention hall. Emily laughs and asks, "Why did you blame that on me?" I shrug. "I needed a fall guy. I'm sorry." She nods understandingly. We walk back into the convention hall and head over to the Parastone Pictures booth. Thankfully, Talia is there. I ask to talk to her, and we take a walk around the convention hall.

"You don't mind it? All the comic book stuff?" I ask as we pass an overweight man dressed as Flash. She laughs. "It's fun; harmless. A little wish fulfillment." She glances sideways at me. "Oh, come on. You didn't dress up like a princess as a kid?"

Actually, my parents wouldn't let me. I change the subject. "So…pretty high stakes on the Red Phantom movie…" She nods. "We took a bash a few years ago on this other comic book movie, The Adventures of the Green Spirit."

That's the comic book I was reading in the car.

"We had to build a landfill for all the unsold action figures. So, we're pulling out all the stops to launch the trailer for the red phantom movie. Lasers, music, and Dan even organized a pyrotechnics display. Word of mouth is the first and most vital step."

Time to begin the interrogation.

"Vital enough to pay someone off?" I ask casually. She stops walking. "What?"

"So, let's say there's this blogger, right? And he is wielding way more power than he should, and he can be had for a price. You guys would be fools not to take a shot, right?"

She gives me a good long look. "Ok, who are you Ronnie, really?"

"I'm a psychic. I work with the FBI. I'm investigating a disappearance. Malone Greyfogal. The Malcontent. I'm sensing you know a lot about him."

she has long blonde hair, and I would guess she was a popular girl in high school. "Ok, this conversation is over." She says. "Oh, no. It's just getting started. See, he's missing." "Missing?" She echoes. "Look, whether or not this guy had a consultation fee is beyond the point. We don't hurt people. It's just a movie."

I tilt my head slightly to the left. "Just a movie? Will your boss say the same thing?" She rolls her eyes. "Well, why don't we ask him together? Dan is back at his office." I follow her silently up the stairs before saying, "I'm sorry if I was too pushy."

"You accused me of kidnapping!" she says loudly.

I roll my eyes. "I accused you of bribery. I implied you may have had something to do with the kidnapping. There's a difference."

We round a corner and she opens a door to what I assume is the office of Dan. She stops suddenly, looking around. "What the hell?" I take a step into the room behind her. The room is trashed, just like the hotel room. "Oh my god, what happened in here?" She asks quietly. "Where is he?"

I enter the room, walking over to his desk. "Something seriously wrong went down in here…" I say absently. Sitting on the desk, in plain sight, is another note. "Two down, one to go." I read out loud. "Ok. The good news is your boss is innocent. Bad news, he just became a face on a milk carton."

**Well, I don't know about you, but I think that was a pretty sweet ending! Anyway, you know the routine! More reviews equal more chapters! I won't continue without a review! Adios! Bye-bye!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Here is part 9! Your welcome! Enjoy!**

I hurry back to the team and inform them about Talia's boss. Hotch turns to me and says, "Garcia just called. She says Malone has four more reviews blazing red phantom. She suspects Malone was kidnapped before the blog went up. He's probably honoring his deal with parastone."

I frown. "So, Malone's kidnapper is the one dissing the Red Phantom movie." Hotch says, "He also said, the guilty will pay."

"Wow. One of these comic book fans has blurred the line between reality and…comic book."

"The kidnapper still has one person to take, and it seems they are targeting people connected with the Red Phantom movie." Reid says thoughtfully. "So…Talia has to be the next victim?" Emily asks. "She must be. I just left her outside, she had to take a phone call." I say. We all turn and make our way through the crowd to the outside of the convention hall.

I open the door and head outside with the team, squinting in the light. I immediately begin looking around, searching for Talia. I see a slide phone sitting on the ground. The screen indicates she dialed the numbers nine and one.

Crap. We are to late.

I tug my sleeves down and pick up the phone, careful not to get my prints on it. I turn it over. There's the note. This final note reads, "Judgment day." it sounds bad. I hand it to Hotch.

"Okay. We need to find out who stands a gain from the disappearances of those three, and who wants the Red Phantom movie to fail this badly." I say. I cross my arms, feeling the comic book, "The Green Spirit" in my pocket.

I freeze.

No. way.

"Are you okay?" Reid asks. I reach into my pocket and pull out the book. I flip through the pages. _I am such an idiot!_ "Take a look."

I hold the book up. Page thirty seven. The bottom right panel. The same note. The same writing. "Someone is recreating the crime from this comic book."

"What happens in the book?" Hotch asks. Great.

"He kidnaps three people…then he sets them on fire."

"He sets them on fire!" Emily exclaims in shock. I turn the book back to myself and flip through. "I would assume the kidnapper is some kind of deranged fan." Reid says. "Deranged? Yes. Fan? I don't think so." I say. I rip out the cover page and stuff the book back in my pocket.

I sprint back to the main hall, rushing up the steps to the podium where I found rob and don. The announcer looks at me and exclaims, "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back to the stage psychic Ronnie Kensington!"

The team makes it through the door as the crowd claps. I take a deep breath, placing my finders on my temples and closing my eyes. The crowd quiets.

"I am sensing something. Something strong. A spirit. A disturbed spirit." I open my eyes. "Yes, it is becoming clearer. it's a kidnapping spirit! Responsible for crimes committed right here at TriCon!" the crowd exchanges nervous glances and murmurs worriedly.

I take another deep breath. "It is clear now! It is a vengeful spirit! And a color, the color is green!" My voice rises in excitement. I am about to solve the case! "It is the green spirit! The kidnapper is the creator of the green spirit," my voice quiets and I gesture to the green phantom booth,

"Hilts cooler."

Everyone looks toward Hilts. My team seems shocked. "Ah, yes. You had motive, didn't you? The studios bastardized your beloved green spirit and turned him into a pop culture punch line! You hated Malone, the Malcontent, because it was his tidal wave of bad buzz that sunk your movie. You were on the verge of becoming a mogul, but it all slipped away."

I watch a security guard make his way to the booth. "Now your reduced to signing autographs at conventions. Like a classic super villain you were driven mad by revenge. You read malones blogs, looking for clues to his true identity, then, one day, like manna from heaven, you found out he was coming here. You also read the executives that screwed your movie would be here too! All the people who wronged you in the past, in the same place at the same time! The opportunity whas to good to pass up! And, you could hide your identity by wearing a costume. And every time you snatched a victim, you left a note, just like the villian in your comic."

The crowd, and my team is awestruck.

"I can see it now. Hilts had a distinctive way of writing the letter 'O.'" I hold up the cover, the signature of Hilts in the lower left corner. "I am sure that if the police anylize the signature, they will find the writing is an exact match as the notes left on the crime scenes."

The crowd claps and the guard cuffs Hilts. "Where are the victims?" I ask. "It's to late! My plan is already complete. There is nothing you can do to stop it." I remember the book. "They are near fire." I say. The pyrotechnics display! I remember. "Under the stage!"

Another guard grabs a flashlight and ducks under the stage I wait impatiently. "They're here! All three of them!" he shouts.

I feel my lungs breath a sigh of relief. I have done it.

I walk back to my team. They all congratulate me. We head back to the plane and get our trip back to Virginia underway. I collapse on a chair in the cabin. I close my eyes and lean my head back. I hear a beeping sound and crack my eyes open. Hotch opens a laptop. It must be Garcia.

"How'd your mission go, boss?" she asks. Hotch sighs. "She lied her way through the investigation." His voice sounds flat. My heart beats a little faster. "But, she worked hard, solved the case, rescued three hostages, and walked away with no casualties."

Phew.

"It sounds like she did good." Garcia says.

"She will make a good addition to her team."

"I'm sure she will."

"But I'm worried about her, Garcia."

"What do you mean?"

"She seems timid, as if something in this world is out to harm her. And she always tugs on her sleeves, as if she is hiding something on her arms."

"You shouldn't profile your own team, Hotch."

"I know. I'm a little suspicious. Its probably nothing. Good night, Garcia."

"Night."

I hear him close his laptop. This is bad. I can't be suspicious. I hear Hotch stand up and walk over to my seat. I feel him stretch his hand toward my face, near the bruise from Andy. _Don't open your eyes, breath normally. You are asleep._ He brushes my hair to the side.

He can see my bruise.

**Done! Well, she solved the case! Great, huh? Well, what next? What should Hotch say to Ronnie? Should he confide in another member of the team? You tell me! I have no idea! Review for another chapter! Bye-bye!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I am so sorry! I haven't updated in forever! I started a new story, and forgot about this for a while. But i'm back! Anyway, this is a pretty...*clears throat awkwardly* graphic chapter...Anyway, So, a few people have been wanting Ronnie and Reid to get together...it will happen soon. I promise. Here's part 10! Enjoy! **

10

I walk up the front steps to my house and feel extremely tired. Hotch didn't say anything about my bruise, and I don't say anything to him. I open the door and step into the living room. I see Andy leap up from the sofa. "Welcome back!" He exclaims happily. He's in a good mood. "Hi, Andy." He gives me a tight hug. "You look tired, but before you rest, I have to show you something!"

I sigh. "Alright, Andy. But make it quick, ok?" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He opens up the voice memos and says, "I was in the car with Erik when this came on the radio." Erik is the drummer in our band. He presses play.

I hear a radio announcer say, "And know for the new hit single from up-and-coming band Falling in Reverse, Raised by Wolves." My heart beats faster.

I hear fast electric guitar music and Andy singing, "I was lost, now I'm found, I'm sustained by the sound, of the angels singing me to sleep, while my feet leaving the ground..."

This is our song, on the radio.

"No way!" I shout happily. "I know! We're going to be famous!" He picks me up and spins me like in those sappy romantic movies I never watch. "This is amazing Andy! But I'm still tired." He laughs. "I understand. Go get some sleep." He gives me a kiss and sends me off to bed. I go to bed happy, for the first time in a long time.

**TIME LAPSE! OH** **YES!**

The next day, I wake up a couple minutes before work and sit in front of my desk, staring at my knife. I want to. It feels good. I know it's wrong, but I still want to. My thoughts are interrupted when Andy opens the door to my room. He looks at me, then the knife. "Come down to the living room, I need to show you something." I nod, walking down the stairs and sitting on the couch. "This," I hear Andy call from the kitchen, "Is a trick to stop cutting." I absently realize I'm late for work.

Andy steps out of the kitchen, a large butcher knife in his hands. "Trust me, this works wonders."

**Third person POV**

Hotch stared at the small mountain of papers in front of him. He absently thinks to himself, "Ronnie is late." He worries. He stands, looking out the door. Reid is standing at the coffee maker across the room. He makes his way over to Reid. "Reid, could you go pick up Ronnie? I'm worried about her." Reid snaps the cover onto his coffee cup and nods. "Sure, Hotch."

**Ronnie's POV**

Andy takes a step toward me, the knife looking just as menacing as Andy himself. He grabs my left arm and rolls up my sleeve. "I promise, you'll thank me." he says quietly. I presses the knife against my skin, plunging it deep into my flesh. I cant help it. I scream.

He pulls the knife down, toward my palm. It feels like my arm is on fire. I feel blood flow down my arm. _It will be over soon._ I think to my self. He begins working on my other arm. "No! Andy, please don't! This is to far, your really hurting me!" He says nothing, and continues to cut me.

I hear a knock on the door.

We both freeze.

I look through the window and see Reid waiting at the door. "I…I gotta go." I say, standing up. "Better tell 'em you fell." He growls. I almost collapse on the floor, but I make my way to the door. I roll down my sleeves and I open the door. "Come on Reid, let's go." I say quietly. He narrows his eyes and takes a long look on me while I close the door. I walk to his blue car, but before I can open the door, he grabs my hand and pulls the sleeve up.

I am to weak to resist.

My arms have jagged cuts running vertically on my arms. They are bleeding more than they should be. "Oh my god, Ronnie! I'm taking you to the hospital." "No!" I exclaim, pulling my hand away from his. "Just take me to work. I don't want to pay a hospital bill." He looks extremely worried. "Hotch has a medical kit in his office, I will fix you up." I nod.

He drives me to our work and rushes me to Hotch's office, thankfully he isn't there. He closes the door and grabs the kit off the shelf. I sit on the corner of his desk. Reid takes out a stitching needle and holds it up. His hands shake. Isn't this guy supposed to be a doctor?

"Reid, your hands are shaking to badly for you to do anything. If it'll make you feel better to call a medic-" He stands up and rushes to the door. "Someone call a medic!" He shouts, his voice raising an octave. I roll my eyes. There is a phone on the desk.

I feel the blood soaking into my sweatshirt, so I take it off, revealing a simple black T-shirt underneath. Reid stares at my arms in shock. Besides the most recent cuts from andy, there are scars from my personal cuts all over my arms. I feel kind of humiliated. the sweatshirt was baggy, so I hid the actual size of myself. I was really skinny. some might even think I was anorexic or bulimic. Reid can't take his eyes off of my arms, which are still bleeding.

"Look, Reid, I'm going to be fine." I stand up and take a step toward the door, but I feel the room spin around me, and I am forced to the ground.

"Hey, what's going on-" Rossi, hotch, and the rest of the team look through the door and stop talking when they see my arms. "Call an ambulance." Rossi says to Emily. She hurries over to the phone on the desk. "No! I don't want to pay for an ambulance ride OR a hospital room!" "We aren't going to let you die!" JJ exclaims while Emily talks on the phone. "I'm not going to die!" I exclaim back.

"OK, what happened?" Morgan asks.

I say nothing.

Reid looks at me. I give a slight shake of my head.

don't say a word.

"I fell." I say quietly. "On a knife?" Rossi asks. "Sure. Why not." I say flatly. A girl dressed in white rushes through the door, kneeling next to me and putting on some gloves. "Hello, I am with the Quantico State Hospital, now, I can see the injury is clearly on your arms, but do you have any other injuries?"

"No, I'm fine, except, well, my arms."

"Alright. Well, it appears you are going to need stitches, so I am going to need you to come to the hospital-" I don't pay attention, but I guess that this situation is unavoidable. The EMT takes me an a quick ride to the hospital. I can barely stay awake. I am tired.

She asks me a bunch of questions like when I ate last and stuff on the way to the hospital. I answer then and she puts me on a gurney, rolling me through the halls. A few more doctors rush up and talk to the EMT. I suddenly feel a sharp jab on my left arm. I sit up.

"Holy shit! What the hell are you doing?"

"I injected your arm with anesthetic-"

"you could at least warn me!"

He jabs my other arm.

I am about to yell at him more, but I feel even more tired, and my arm feels a little better. I lean back down. I stop moving in an emergency room and see two doctors examine my arm. "Can you feel this?" one asks.

"No."

"Well, we may begin the operation."

I feel something poke my arm. I sit up again to see what they are doing. I feel sick to my stomach when I see the needle and thread being pulled through my skin. I feel a tug and he ties the first stitch.

I lean back down.

I feel another poke, another needle. I finally give in to sleep.

And

My

World

Goes

Black.

**Done! How's THAT for a cliffhanger? So, the third person POV failed misserably, but to bad. The song that Ronnie wrote, Raised by wolves, is a real song. I'll put a link on my profile. So, Ronnie and Reid will be together! Somehow! PLEASE leave suggestions...I love the idea, I just don't know how to put it into action. So, review for another chapter! Bye-bye!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Oh my gosh. I am so sorry for not updating. I didn't realize I had enough reviews and forgot about it for a while. Sorry! Here is part 11! A little bit of Ronnie and Reid, but I still need help with that, if you have suggestions, Do tell! Thanks, enjoy!**

**11**

Wow. My arms hurt.

That is my first thought when I come back into consciousness. I open my eyes and blink a few times. I am in a grey hospital room. Can't they have some color in this place? I sit up and take a look at my arms. They are all stitched up. I count twelve stitches on each arm. I hope this isn't to expensive. I take in my surroundings. I see Spencer sleeping in a soft looking chair to my left. Out the window, it seems dark, but I assume its early in the morning.

There is an IV stand on my right, close to my bed. It is not attached to me. There is a door about ten feet away. There is a small…thing attached to my arm, which I suspect monitors my heart rate. I take it off and it makes a small sound. Spencer stirs in his sleep, but doesn't wake. I wonder what he's doing here.

I swing my feet off my bed and onto the floor. I'm still in my regular clothes, and shoes. Thankfully I'm not in those paper thin hospital gowns. I stand up, but quickly feel my legs are too weak. I grab for the IV stand for support, but it falls to the ground with me with a loud crash.

Graceful.

I quickly sit up, taking a deep breath.

"Ronnie!"

I look over to my left and see Spencer, wiping sleep from his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving, what does it look like?"

"It looks like you fell on the floor because you aren't clear to leave the hospital!"

"Details, details."

Spencer walks over and helps me up.

"See? I'm fine."

A girl with brown hair in a ponytail looks in the doorway. She wears a uniform. "Is everything all right? I heard a commotion." I sigh. "Everything is fine. Can I go home?" she enters the room and picks up a clipboard from the foot of my bed. "Well, it's recommended that you stay at the hospital for at least another twenty four hours to make sure your wounds are ok."

"The key word there is recommended. I can leave, but it's recommended that I stay."

The girl looks slightly flustered. "Well, I suppose."

She looks at the clipboard again. "You will probably need to take antibiotics and painkillers for about a week, and you can't get them wet for the next day."

She gives me a bunch of instructions that I won't bore you with. She gives me the medicine and lets me leave, bill in hand. When we get outside, Reid offers me a ride home. I get in his car and buckle my seatbelt. It hurts to move.

"Reid?"

"Yes?"

"How long was I asleep?"

"Approximately thirty six hours."

Wow. Longer than I expected. A thought creeps into my head.

"Reid?"

"Yeah?"

"Why were you sleeping in my hospital room?"

He looks uncomfortable.

"Uh…because I was worried. About you."

"…Oh. Thanks, I guess."

"Your welcome."

He keeps his eyes fixated on the road.

"What happened, you know, while I was asleep?"

His eyes glance over to me for a brief second.

"Nothing."

I narrow my eyes.

"Do you know what I hate, Spencer?"

"What?"

"Being lied to."

He swallows. I can tell he is hiding something important.

"Hotch told me he needs to talk to you."

I am suspicious. We arrive at work about ten minutes later. We enter the building and Reid leads me to Hotch's office. When we enter, Hotch tells Reid to leave and close the door. I have a feeling like the kid getting called down to the principals office.

"It looks like it hurts." He says.

I look at my arms. "Well, they didn't necessarily feel good…"

He doesn't smile. "I suspect someone is doing this to you. The way you pull on your sleeves to hide your arms. The way you don't talk about your personal life. The way you act."

I say nothing, I just stare at the floor with interest.

"The way you act. You act as if your hiding. If your waiting for something to hurt you. And it's because something is."

Again, I say nothing.

"And I suspect that something is Andy Nathanson."

I jerk my head up to look at him.

"Well, I guess my secret is out." I say quietly. I glance over at the window and see the whole team watching. They are gathered around Reid's desk.

"I have placed him under arrest for assault and battery."

I look back at him and say, "You can't do that! He didn't mean it, I swear. It was an accident."

"You and I both know that's not the case."

I blink a couple of times. It is pointless to argue. I won't win.

"I request that you take a few days off, to recover."

"I'm recovered, and I will be at work tomorrow. End of discussion."

I turn and leave. I am tempted to slam his door shut to make my point, but I decide against it. It will only heighten my chances of getting fired. I walk slowly down to the office area, heading for the elevator. But the team stops me.

"Wow. Those are going to make wicked scars." Derek comments, looking at my arms. I give a tiny smile. "I always liked Harry Potter."

Emily looks at me with concern. "Who did this?"

Sigh.

"Ask Hotch." I say simply. "He will tell you. I have places to go and people to see. I'll see you all tomorrow."

With that, I enter the elevator and close the door.

I need to talk to Andy.

**Done! Sorry again for the wait. If you have suggestions for helping Ronnie and Reid become a couple, TELL ME! I am not good at romance. I thank you in advance for your help. Well, review for more, thanks for reading! Bye-bye!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys! So, I'm off of winter break on Tuesday, so I might not post as often. Sorry, but it's the cold hard truth! Anyway, here's part 12! Enjoy!**

12

I walk home, and when I get there, I feel a little dizzy. I brush it off, assuming that its because I've been laying around for the past thirty six hours. I go inside and get the keys to Andy's car. I was never allowed to drive it, but things are changing now. I climb into the driver's seat and immediately smell cigarette smoke. Neither of us smoke, but Erik does. I suspect Andy has not been in the car since I got back from Arizona.

I will go to the nearest prison. I begin driving, turning up the radio as loud as possible. The rock music makes my ears ring, but it helps me focus on something other than the pain in my arm.

I finally pull into the parking lot. I find a pad of paper and a pen, I scribble a note down and stuff it into my pocket. I get out and pass through a metal detector, forcing me to give up the keys, and my badge.

I tell the officer that I'm here to see Andy, and she leads me to a room divided in half, one for the prisoners, and one for visitors. I take a seat in an uncomfortable wooden chair and see a phone on the wall next to me. There is an identical phone on the other side of the glass divider. A minute later, Andy sits on the other side. He is wearing the orange suit I always see in movies.

I take him in. he has dark circles under his eyes. He hasn't slept. His hair is a little messed up. He looks worn out. Then again, I probably don't look much better.

I am pale, and my stitches are clearly visible. My hair is a little limp, and I probably look just as tired as him. I watch him pick up the phone. I do the same.

"Hey." He says.

"Hi." I say softly.

"They found out." He says.

"No shit, Sherlock." I say flatly.

"Don't talk to me like that." He says, glaring through the glass.

"Are you going to do something about it?" I ask.

"I will! As soon as I get out."

"And when will that be?"

He says nothing.

"Exactly. I'm not going to bail you out. You are going to stay here, and when you get out next month, you won't be allowed back into the house."

"No! that's unfair! It's my house too!"

"You live in the house! You don't make any payments or anything! I'm the one who pays for everything!" I almost yell at him. I am angry, and it feels amazing to stand up to him.

An officer taps him on the shoulder and taps his watch. Our time is over.

"Andy, we are over." I say, shoving the piece of paper under the glass. I hope he reads it carefully. I watch him read it, then look at me with sad eyes.

_I can see the writing on the wall, I won't beg, and I won't crawl. I hope you feel like your two feet tall._

_Love sucks._

_It really sucks._

I go back home and set the keys on the island in the kitchen. I wonder what to do. I decide to go downstairs. I will write, and maybe I will feel better.

I write until it's dark out, then retire to my bed at around ten. I fall asleep quickly.

_It is night. I am standing on top of a very tall building. I am pretty sure that it is the empire state building, and I can hear the night life of New York below me. It is windy, but it is not cold. I am alone. I turn around, seeing where I am, but when I complete my circle, I am not alone. Andy is on the building with me. He is walking toward me. _

_"Andy? what are you doing here?" I find myself asking. "I see the evil in your eyes." he growls. I hear a footstep behind me. There is another Andy behind me. "I hear the lies behind the grin." another footfall to my right. "They wander in the dark," and another behind me. "They do not have a heart." I feel confused. "YOU WILL PAY THE PRICE." the first one screams at me. everywhere I turn, he is there. "FOR BETRAYING ME." another screams. Their voices garble together. I cannot tell who is talking. "I WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT, WITH A SMILE UPON MY FACE." they are closing in on me. I back away, finding myself at the edge of the building. If I take another step back, I will fall of the edge onto the street hundreds of feet below. "SQUEEZE UNTIL YOU CHOKE, I WILL NOT LET GO, UNTIL I FEEL NO PULSE." they are all screaming, and I cover my ears. _

_It does not help. _

_I see one break from the crowd, offering his hand. I don't know why, but I take it. He grasps my hand, then puts his other on my shoulder. He pushes me off the building._

_As I fall I hear someone yell, "BRACE FOR IMPACT!"_

Then I wake up.

It feels like I land on my bed. I sit up, gasping for breath. What a horrible nightmare.

I wait until my heart rate lowers to under nine thousand to check the clock. It is four twenty one in the morning. I do not want to go back to sleep. I go downstairs and sit at my desk. I haven't had a nightmare in a long time, and didn't really know what to think of it. Before starting the song, I write a note at the top of the paper. If I get another nightmare I will read this note. Maybe it will ease my fear that my nightmare may come true.

**Done! This is kinda a short chapter, sorry. What will happen next? Tell me! I love hearing suggestions! Anyway, remember to review for another chapter! See ya later! Bye-bye!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey! I'm back! Who's ready for story time? OK, so a new girl started at our school, and she passed me in the hall and said, "Hey, I like your hair!" If you don't know my hair is purple...anyway, without thinking I said, "Thanks...I grew it myself." She gave me a weird look and walked away. Anyway, here's part 13! Enjoy its awesomness!**

I wake up early, clean my stitches, and head off to work. I know Hotch will be mad, but I don't want to miss work.

I walk to work and into the building. I sit at my desk and take out my music book. No paper work, nothing better to do. I continue writing the song I have titled dark dreams. I realize that since the band broke up, none of my songs will be published, so it's pointless to write. But it is a great stress reliever.

I continue writing until I hear a door open on the other end of the room. I don't have to look up to see that it's the team.

"Ronnie, I told you to take the day off." Hotch says.

"No, you said you requested I take the day off. There is a large difference."

Derek snickers. Hotch takes a deep breath.

"Alright. Fine."

I smile and we head to the briefing room. I take a seat in between Morgan and Emily. Garcia is standing at the front of the room. "Okay, my lovelies, this arrived via snail mail last night." White noise comes over unseen speakers, and then a woman's voice comes on. It sounds as if she is crying. "Please…don't do this. Don't kill me. I don't wanna die."

If I had to guess, I would think she was around my age.

"I'm too young. I'm too attractive. There are still so many rejects out there that I haven't made fun of yet. Please, let me go. I'll do anything, I swear. I'll even be nice to you. Please?"

She screams, and the sound is quickly cut off by the sound of someone cutting her throat.

It sends shivers down my spine.

Another voice comes on, a man.

"You little fuck! As soon as I get out of this straightjacket, and pull these nails out of my feet, your gonna get it! I'm gonna kick your ass, you skinny faggot!" He screams. There is a loud clang, and silence.

This is just sick.

"Yeah, this guy is twisted like a corkscrew. It also came with this letter," She presses a button on her remote and a letter appears on the screen. The handwriting is messy, but readable. I would assume it is a mans writing.

"Such amusing fiction, these stories tell," Emily reads aloud.

"It always comes to this. If they really had a desire to live, they would have been more aware of how easy it is to die, and would have chosen they're actions against me more wisely. In those moments, you can tell they don't regret hurting me. But they do regret when I fight back. They get so loud."

Emily pauses, then continues.

"They make so much noise. I try to wait until I'm out of their cell before I start laughing at their impending death."

She shakes her head. "This is just wrong. This is one sadistic man." Derek nods, and Emily reads again.

"It's a blur of sweating…screaming…crying. Human…drama. But, every once and a while, they say things that sound like words. The noise makes me uncomfortable. So uncomfortable that…sometimes…I wonder…why don't I just buy myself some earplugs?"

Garcia gives a slight shake of her head. "Yeah. Corkscrew twisted. So, I did some backtracking, and traced it back to Detroit." Hotch nods, and says, "Wheels up in thirty. Lets go."

Forty minutes later, we are high in the sky. We have decided that the unsub is most likely a reclusive man. We haven't narrowed it down farther than that. I'm sitting in a chair next to Spencer and across from Derek and Rossi. They are all watching me as I write in my song book. I cast a quick glance up. "Would it make you feel better if I put on my sweatshirt?" I ask. Derek shakes his head. "Sorry for staring." there is silence for a while, then he asks, "Whatcha writing there?"

"You can read it if you want." I say, sliding my moleskin journal across the table. Derek picks it up the journal and Rossi peers over his shoulder. "wow. That's…deep." Derek says. "What do you mean by that?" I ask. "I never thought about nightmares like this." "What does it say?" Reid asks.

Rossi reads, "Have you ever dreamed that you were naked in front of a crowd and you felt exposed, or you had a dream that you were going down a hill and you were pumping the brake and you couldn't stop, and you were out of control?

"Or another dream is that you are being chased by a malevolent pursuer, and they're chasing you along the mountain top and you can't get away. What do these dreams mean, are they meant to torment you, or are they meant to help you? My view is that these dreams are meant to help you in terms of dealing with the terror in yourself so you can overcome fear.

"It's one thing to say, 'I had a nightmare and I was upset by it, and thank god it was only a dream.' It's another thing to say 'okay, I had this nightmare and I've been chased by a dark man in a dark mask, to be able to turn around and say, who is this man? to look back in your life and say who is this man? Is it my father, is it my uncle, is it a teacher, who is this?' So that you can stop running from them. That's the purpose of dreams. In order to use them as intuitive prompts so that you're not running away from yourself all the time and living a life that's driven by fear."

I decide not to tell him that is the note I wrote myself, not the song.

"So…You've been having nightmares?" Rossi asks. I hope they don't think I have PTSD. "I get them all the time. It's nothing new." I lie smoothly. He nods. He believes me. I feel the plane tilt slightly downward. We are arriving in Detroit.

**Done! Wasn't that super? I am making my own unsub, and Ronnie/Reid will be in the next chapter. I pinky promise. This unsub is based after Johnny C. Google JTHM if you don't know who that is...The song is Dark Dreams by BOTDF. Its a really good song...Anyway, review for more! Thanks for reading! Bye-bye!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Please don't hurt me! I haven't reviewed since...well, it seems like forever! I'm so sorry guys! But I'm on summer break now, so I should be updating more often! But I got some reviews in the past week and it motivated me! Enjoy my story. And try the stew. It's delicious.**

The moment we step off the plane, I can feel the cool air of Detriot. I am actually kind of sad I don't have my sweatshirt on.

We pass through the airport and outside where two black cars are waiting. I get into a car with Rossi, Morgan, and Reid. I take the back seat behind the driver, Rossi. We buckle in and begin driving, the heater quickly kicking in. I watch out the window as we drive through the town, not really seeing anything interesting. I suddenly feel my arm being lifted up. I look over in surprise to see Reid, looking at my arm closely. I realize he's probably examining the stitches and scars.

Well…that's weird.

But I don't stop him. He seems genuinely interested in the scars. After a few seconds, he says, "I read cutting can be addicting." I don't say anything at first, then, "Yeah. It feels bad, but kinda good at the same time, you know? You know it's bad, but you can't stop." I look at the seat in front of me awkwardly.

He nods slowly. I'm probably freaking him out.

"I know what it feels like."

I turn back to look at him. "What do you mean?" I ask. He tells me a story of when he was held by an unsub and given Dilaudid, and how he became addicted and eventually quit.

"Wow…I had no idea…" I say quietly.

Before Reid has a chance to reply, the car pulls to a halt. We get out of the car and find ourselves on the side of a dirt road. There are several police cars and police tape is everywhere. Hotch, Emily, and JJ are already speaking to the local police chief.

We walk over to them and Hotch introduces us. "This is SSA Rossi, SSA Morgan, Doctor Reid, and Crime Scene Specialist Kensington." I get a fancy title? Cool.

The police chief shakes their hands, but doesn't offer his hand to me. He gives me a weird look and says, "Are you kidding, Agent Hotchner?" he waves his hand in my direction. "This is…a kid! I mean, look at her! Her hair is purple!"

I really want to say several profanities to him, but I don't.

"My hair color doesn't the efficiency of my work." I say flatly, then turn and begin the walk to the body of David Collins laying on the ground a few hundred feet away.

I step under the police tape and find the body, splayed in an unnatural position.

In one word…disturbing.

The head of the man is almost off, and his stomach is open, displaying his innards.

After I get over the initial shock, I force myself to bend down and examine it closer. There are slash wounds centered around his stomach. The guts were probably not important, because they are in pieces, and worthless to a collector. There doesn't seem to be a pattern, just random, violent, stabbing and slashing.

I glance down at the man's arms. No defensive wounds. There is a tan line from a thick watch on his right wrist.

From my guess, and with the wounds going from left to right, it suggests our unsub is left handed.

I stand up and walk back to Hotch, Morgan, Emily, and Reid. "I think our unsub is left handed." Reid says almost instantaneously, "You know, only 15% of the world population is left handed, and men are more likely to be left handed than females."

"So, we have a reclusive, left handed male?" Emily asks. "There's another thing. There were no defensive wounds, so our unsub probably doesn't look dangerous." I finish. "Thank you, Ronnie." Hotch says. "Garcia is getting an address for David Collins, that's where you four head to next. Our car is going to go to the police station." He says. Seconds later, his phone buzzes with a new text. He shows it to Rossi, and we pile back into the cars.

The drive to the man's house is rather short, only about twenty minutes from the crime scene. It's a big blue house in a quiet looking neighborhood.

We all walk up to the house, and Morgan knocks on the door. It is slowly pulled open by a small, blonde girl, probably only a few years younger than me. She looks us over, then says, "You're here about my dad, huh?" without waiting for an answer, she opens the door wider and gestures for us to come in.

We all file in and the girl leads us to what I assume is the living room. The three men sit down, but I remain standing. The girl sits across from them. "May I?" I ask, pointing to a shelf full of framed pictures. She nods. "My name is Lily." she introduces. I half listen as the others introduce themselves, and I look at the pictures.

In each of them, the man, David, has his arm lovingly around lily's shoulders. In each picture, they are smiling. They were close. I force myself to look deeper into the pictures. I notice how they slowly age with each photo, and in each picture, David is wearing the same watch.

I turn back to Lily and my team, and politely wait for a break in the conversation. I then ask, "Did your father ever take his watch off? For any reason?" She stares at me before saying, "No…not ever. It was important to him." I nod slowly. "Well, for whatever reason, he didn't have it when he died. I remember a tan line, but no watch." Morgan frowns. "So, not only extreme overkill, but a thief too?" He asks. I nod. Rossi takes a deep breath and murmurs, "Garcia was right. Twisted like a corkscrew."

**Sorry again for the not updating for months thing. OH BY THE WAY if you like these little author note things, I now have a Facebook page of awesomeness. It's " / ilikebeingweirdandunique" without the spaces. And quotes. Me and my friend admin it, and it only has, like, eight likes. Go like it! It's quite spiffy. Bye-bye!**


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